


XOXO Seijoh

by welcome2atlantis



Series: Come at Me Bro [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, M/M, Sequel, next gen captains, plot if you squint, quarantine crack, seijoh shenanigans
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:54:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24890404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/welcome2atlantis/pseuds/welcome2atlantis
Summary: Yahaba tries to pick a fight with Karasuno + the one time he doesn’t.A nonsensical sequel to Fight Me that’s very little real plot and lots of second gen Seijoh shenanigans, summer practice camp, harassing Karasuno, Kyoutani suffering, and a dash of Yahaba heckling other teams.
Relationships: Kyoutani Kentarou/Yahaba Shigeru, side pairings - Relationship
Series: Come at Me Bro [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1737415
Comments: 17
Kudos: 170





	1. No Returns, No Refunds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Been a while, huh? Well, I'm back at my nonsense again -finger guns-  
> This chap is more of a warm up then real content, but don't worry. The salt is coming 🧂
> 
> Edit:  
> It occurs to me that two out of three of the Saitos share names with Nekoma players. Oops. Hope that doesn’t get confusing. At least Kuroo isn’t there???  
> So, for clarity any time I say Tora I mean the Saito, and any time I say Yamamoto I mean the Nekoma Tora. I’ll even have Tanaka and the rest of Nekoma call him Yamamoto even though that’s out of character ( and drives me a lil crazy).

* * *

“Is that–”

“Could it be–”

“Tokyo Skytree!?” Tora and Tomio exclaimed together.

Yahaba sighed gustily, looking skyward for patience. “That’s a transmission tower.”

Yahaba's correction didn’t do much to subdue the pair's enthusiasm. They were probably lucky Tomio didn’t start clapping in excitement.

A guy with a mohawk and Nekoma jacket elbowed Baldy. “Where have I heard that one before?"

Yahaba stopped up trying to kindly wrangle Tora and Tomio, and signaled to Watari with their not-so-secret hand sign to taking over babysitting duty. Watari nodded and started casually corralling the two by regaling them with some tale about Iwaizumi and Oikawa.

Yahaba turned to address the two other guys of the four man greeting squad. The two who hadn’t spoken yet, and Kyoutani recognized one of them as Ennoshita, only cause he was wearing a Karasuno jacket and completely forgettable looking. He remembered the guys name too, but that was mostly cause he made a point to know all of the Miyagi captains. The other guy next to him was wearing a Nekoma jacket, and looked eerily like Manekineko. Something about the eyes.

How Kyoutani had ended up here, he wasn’t sure. He assumed Yahaba had used his dark magic and fluffy hair secrets to talk someone on Karasuno’s management into a practice camp in some random Tokyo suburb. Irihata had thought it was a good idea and _yes, let's definitely spend the week with Seijoh's greatest rival, that sounds like an excellent idea that will in no way go horribly badly_... So here they were, in cat territory.

Apparently it was a big deal, having a chance to play national level teams or something. Which, great and all, but wouldn’t be worth much if, say, any of Seijoh’s players _ended up in jail._

Yahaba bowed formally and said in his Polite Voice, “Thank you for having us Fukunaga-san.”

The stoic Manekineko bowed back wordlessly. _Ah, cat captain then._

“We’re glad Aobajohsai could join us,” Ennoshita said with a smile. “It’ll be nice to have an even number of teams this time."

Oh man, Yahaba was going to absolutely _eviscerate_ this guy.

It was fine though. Everything was fine. Kyoutani just needed to make it through the week without anyone on the team from starting a fight with the crows. And make sure Yahaba didn’t piss off every other team at this camp. And keep the Saitos from staging a mutiny.

Yeah, he didn’t like his chances, but what else was new.

* * *

Seijoh’s appointed four-man greet team led them to the main gym and the moment they stepped inside this ears were assaulted.

A black colored mass of shrieking and squwaling everywhere. And damn, how had these fuckers gotten even louder since he’d last seen the flock of freaks? Was their team cursed or something? Cause now they had some midget loudmouth chattering at light speed to Karasuno’s team manager. The poor girl looked increasingly anxious as the kid got bouncier and more animated by the microsecond. Kyoutani felt sorry for her.

Of course there was the libero yelling about lighting and twirling or something, which only got worse when Baldy and Mohawk – _seriously? He isn’t even a crow_ – joined forces and they created a noisy tornado of hollering delinquents. Close by, Shorty and Grumpy were caught up in the «no I don’t - yes you do» cycle from hell and growing progressively louder, and it was like someone was holding their finger on the volume-up button. 

Jesus fucking christ. 

Kunimi popped out of thin air, and the extra energy lent by the power of his contempt for hyperactive simpletons must have been significant because he looked legit annoyed. 

“Incoming murder,” he grumbled. “And they have another pocket-sized volleyball idiot incapable of speech at under seventy five decibels. Just what Karasuno needed.” 

“Is that a murder of crows joke, or a reference to how someone’s probably going to end up dead?” Kindaichi asked, sounding thoughtful instead of worried. 

He should have worried. Kyoutani was worried. Kunimi’s wrath was a cold and subtle knife that you never saw coming, and he really didn’t want Kunimi stabbing people. 

“Por que no los dos?” The Saitos said in horrible, noisy synchrony. 

As if he didn't have enough headaches to deal with, he could feel Yahaba zeroing in on a new target. His boyfriend couldn’t pull an Aone lock-on with his hand otherwise occupied with Kyoutani’s (shout out to the benefits of hand holding), but he still squeezed Yahaba’s hand in warning. The asshole could at least wait until after introductions to start his regularly scheduled bullshit.

Yahaba smiled down at him cheekily, eyes glinting with malicious joy. “You’re so cute when you worry about me.”

“So, Kyoutani’s cute all the time?” quipped Tetsu. 

Kyoutani’s head whipped around. “Fuck off Saito,” he snarled back. “Mind your own goddamn business!”

Yahaba pinched one of Kyoutani’s cheeks, bringing his attention back over to him again. “Cute,” he cooed, all Stevia sweetness and terror, asshole grin firmly in place. Then he switched to smooshing Kyoutani’s cheeks between his palms. “Definitely cute. All of the time.” 

Kyoutani managed some kind of garbled noise. Possibly a protest, possibly his brain crashing, but definitely pathetic. 

This boy was out to eat his heart and Kyoutani was one hundred percent vulnerable.

“Please do not break Kyoutani before we even start,” Watari admonished. “We need our ace in working order.”

“He’s already a broken man,” Tora pointed out.

_Um, fucking rude._

“Serving some serious tea,” said Kunimi _not sounding annoyed at all_.

_???_

When had Kunimi stopped wanting to vigorously drown Tora any time they got within ten feet of each other? Obviously, finding out Yahaba had Kyoutani leashed instead of the other way around had damaged his reputation with Tora, but still. Kunimi? Seriously? It was bad enough he’d collected Tetsu, but now he was corrupting Tora too.

Okay, whatever, maybe Kyoutani was broken. But his asshole teammates were entirely responsible for that, so. 

“Please do not break Kyoutani any further,” Watari rephrased, and gave Yahaba a stern look that would do jackshit to stop Yahaba, but Kyoutani was thankful for any scrap of sympathy people threw his way. 

“Cause then we’ll be without an ace,” Watari added. “And I’m not going to find you a new one, or be your substitute co-captain if you damage him. You bought him, you brake him, your problem.” 

Never mind. Watari was a grade-A asshole.

But miracle of miracles: Yahaba actually toned down his flirtations; restricted himself to their old, comfortable flirt-fighting instead of this newest setting Yahaba had developed. One that involved a lot of embarrassment on Kyoutani’s part, and Yahaba channeling a very affectionate koala or like, hello kitty on a handful of benzo’s. 

Aka, Setting #3: the Octopus Cling. 

Which basically involved melting Kyoutani's brain via shows of affection and Yahaba permanently attaching himself to Kyoutani at all available opportunities. The guy would grow six new arms and _all of them_ would be _all over him_ in whatever capacity Kyoutani would allow– lots of aggressive hand holding, an arm slung over Kyoutani’s shoulder, being guided along with a hand resting between his shoulder blades or lower back. And, on days Kyoutani was extra hissy, Yahaba leaning just the barest bit against his side when they sat or stood together. 

Oh, it also included his teammates laughing at him, that was a thing too. And one he could’ve done without, thanks.

(Once, when it was just them and Watari, Kyoutani let him get away with standing behind him, his pointy chin resting on his shoulder and arms wrapped around Kyoutani in a backwards hug. But that was the limit of what Yahaba could get away outside closed doors. He didn’t let Yahaba kiss him in public either, which Yahaba had whined about, since Kyoutani had kissed him in public that one time. But whatever, Captain Creampuff just had to deal.)

Anyways, while the coaches were huddled up –planning the rotation for the matches or whatever– the rest of them waited for the first round of games to start and sadly Yahaba was in setting #2 again. He’d been banking hard on #1, but Kyoutani was never that lucky. 

#1 Setter Mode Activated: this was the Serious Yahaba option, most commonly occurring when it came to school, volleyball matches, self improvement, running practice, and other captain duties. This was his only emotionally-balanced setting, the Good Captain setting, and the one thing that had kept Tomio and Tora in one piece despite how Yahaba wanted to, like, kill them real dead for a little while there. This setting also included Yahaba’s Game Face, which was fucking adorable and Kyoutani immediately wanted to set himself on fire every time for even thinking that. 

#2 Drama Queen of the Court: Arguably, Kyoutani’s least favorite setting (not counting the defunct Superficial & Shallow setting) because a spotlight seeking Yahaba was a pain in the ass who did stupid shit like throwing shade so hard it could emotional cripple someone, chronic flirting with other teams managers, tapping in to the power of his resident brain demon, and getting down on one knee and asking someone out in front of their entire team, their opponents, and the spectators in the stands. 

But at the same time, Kyoutani was kinda about it. Maybe all about it. Which was weird, but he’d made a certain amount of peace with it, because the other option was obsessing about it. And that was just exhausting– why waste energy on useless shit when he could be like, playing volleyball, or kissing Yahaba’s stupid mean pouty face. 

So that meant he was stuck sitting through Yahaba’s flirting routine. Always annoying as shit, but more because it was boring as fuck than any kind of jealousy. Kyoutani had a suspicion that ninety percent of the reason Yahaba kept up the tradition was Yahaba being hungry for any and all of Kyoutani’s attention. It was just another what-the-fuck in an endless string of deeply weird ways Yahaba showed his affection. Because nothing showed how much you cared about your boyfriend like hitting on the enemy, right?

Yahaba moved on from the manager in the yellow shirt suspiciously fast though. Maybe angling for another team's lady manager, because wow, there were a lot of them here. But maybe he was... 

…maybe he was '''casually''' meandering in the direction of the Karasuno flock, cause that sure as hell looked like he was doing. 

Kyoutani followed and wasn’t that surprised to find Yahaba picking a fight with the bouncing tangerine. The guy was such an obvious choice for tormenting –with the yelling and jumping and flailing and his general everythingness– it was like Shorty was begging other teams to taunt him, he had Easy Target written across his forehead in neon lights.

Well, at least this would be more amusing to watch than Yahaba fake being a lady killer. 

“Hey Chibi-chan, grown any taller since last time?”

Hinata puffed up proudly and proclaimed, “I’m over 166 centimetres now!”

Yahaba cocked an eyebrow and tilted his head to the side in a way that managed to ooze skepticism. “Is that so?”

“Yes!” Hinata said defensively. “At least two centimetres taller!”

Skepticism intensifying. “Hm, if you say so. Honestly, it feels like you’ve gotten shorter, but I must be mistaken,” and without giving the slightest opening Yahaba swanned off, throwing back a casual, “Careful not to snipe Kageyama-kun in the head again!” for good measure, and Shorty was left making a sound like a mangled squeaky toy. 

While Short kept making more _gwaaah_ noises and had a fit of minor flailing, Kyoutani caught Glasses smirking in the background. Those nerdy glasses caught the light, making them shine like this asshole was a D-grade villain straight out of a 90’s anime. He had to be doing that on purpose, right? 

Glasses said something to Hinata that Kyoutani didn’t catch, but a righteous smirk played across his face and whatever the guy said elicited more sounds. Things like: _hngggurrr_ and _wuuuaghhh_. Plus some bonus hollering of “Dammit Tsukishima!” and “So mean!”

That wouldn’t be the end of it though, not by a long shot. Because there was no universe where Yahaba would be satisfied with making a jab at Shrimpy’s height. The evil creampuff wouldn’t be satisfied until he achieved maximum drama.

Yahaba easily interrupted Kyoutani’s brooding over the oncoming reckoning. It didn’t take anything more than Yahaba walking up to him with that little self-satisfied smirk. Because Kyoutani was a sad, weak man, who was not built to withstand this kind of thing. 

“Sounds like we’re up against Ubugawa first,” Yahaba said brightly, and proffered his arm in invitation. “Shall we?”

Kyoutani grudgingly held out his own arm, letting Yahaba link them together– fucking wizard-of-oz style. He did manage to draw a hard line when Yahaba tried to get him to skip. Kyoutani would like to at least _pretend_ he had some dignity, thanks. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk how long this story will be, because there is only a thin pretense at a plot. Probs around 5 ish tho. 
> 
> Fun Fact #1: I made up a list of weird Hinata sounds for when I need them. Let me share them with you.  
> nuuurgh / gwaaah / bwaaah / hngggurrr / whuuuah / geh / bwarrrrgh / wuuuaghhh  
> (Feel free to borrow from the list 😘)


	2. Do Not Put In Direct Sunlight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming up with Hinata’s little speech was stupidly difficult.  
> I LITERALLY did research.
> 
> Then I almost cut out the bit about them playing the other teams... but I liked the mohawk conversation too much
> 
> @suganii for the giggles and The Fuckening  
> @FarTooManyFandoms for inspiring Yahaba's Ultimate Weakness

* * *

It wasn’t often that Kyoutani missed Oikawa’s pretentious pre-game one-liner. Because, Oikawa + missing = nope, and usually Yahaba had his own flowery nonsense to spew at them which was fine, it set the mood and lacked the previous captain’s narcissistic flair.

Practice games were an exception.

“Let the fuckening begin!”

Yahaba sounded way too fucking cheerful about it. Of course, the rest of the team laughed or smirked depending on personality, while Kyoutani glared at everyone because _that was not a real pep talk you jackass._

Fuck it. He was just glad the actual volleyball was happening.

* * *

Their first opponent had annoying blocking and some seriously fierce serves, but Seijoh had plenty of practice in receiving powerful jump serves. 

Oikawa and Iwaizumi, Futakuchi and No-Eyebrows, and Bowlcut too. Plus, the Ultimate Punishment. The penalty for invoking Yahaba’s captainly wrath– receiving fifty serves from Kyoutani. Twenty five right handed, twenty five left.

(Yahaba had been appalled to find that Kyoutani was ambi, but had only been training to hit right handed because he could smash the ball better. _Wasting his gift_ or whatever.)

The Saitos had definitely improved their receiving thanks to that. And even if Kyoutani was arguably the worst receiver in their starting line up, he did his part– _six players who are strong_. The other teams blocks weren’t insurmountable either. Kyoutani had to admit, no other team’s blockers were scary after playing enough matches with Dateko. That was just facts. 

Seijoh took the win 25-21.

***

They didn’t fare as well against Nekoma. They were all too damn good at digging the ball and it was a fucking pain. Kyoutani kinda hated every single one of those devious cats. He did enjoy bashing his spikes through the middle blocker with the noodle arms though, and Tomio had met his long lost twin– quadruplet? Whatever. Point was, Nekoma’s zippy middle blocker-turned-outside hitter was just as much of an eager puppy dog and watching them together was _exhausting_.

Kyoutani’s biggest concern –other than their losing– was that Yahaba had the clinical stare going all game. The kind that foreshadowed a clash of the captains. And yet he didn’t utter a word to Captain Manikineko, which was fucking bizzar-o. It wouldn’t last for long, Yahaba just didn’t have the impulse control for it. Kyoutani would give it till the end of training camp max. 

Nobody else had gotten all that riled up. There’d been the normal kind of in-game shit talking and background tension, but what kinda game would it be without some rivalry? A real fucking boring one. 

Kunimi and Nekoma’s pudding head setter were… well, they didn’t seem to hate each other exactly, but there was something going. Could’ve been over who could be the laziest on the court and get away with it, or maybe pudding head was also a cryptid and Kunimi felt defensive sharing the same territory. In any event, their combined apathy level was so high a showdown between them wouldn’t amount to much. 

Kyoutani and Mohawk had their own side competition going, and Kyoutani would give credit where it was due though– Mohawk was a fucking _cannon_ , even if his offense was kinda meh. After the game, they’d had a moment of brief eye contact. Kyoutani would like to think it was a moment of mutual respect, but he was a social inept disaster, so. Who the fuck was he to say.

“Please do not grow a mohawk,” Yahaba had said when they were waiting for their next match.

“Don’t tell me what to do.” 

Fuck, how had he known Kyoutani was thinking about growing a– 

Right, fluffy hair magic. 

“I’m just saying, I wouldn’t be able to give you head pets with it in the way.”

And that fact murdered any desire Kyoutani might’ve had for a mohawk real dead. It was absolutely not worth giving up head scritches for. 

***

Fukurodani’s team wasn’t what Kyoutani had expected. The whole lot of them were laid-back. A little _too_ laid back maybe. They were damn good though, so it could've just been confidence in their team and skills. 

Only Kindaichi and Fukurodani’s tall-ass middle blocker had any sort of friction, and Kunimi didn’t seem interested in it, and Kunimi’s reactions were his measuring stick for when and when not to be worried about turniphead. Kyoutani was probably the most furious one during the game, but that was more about losing against Nekoma and then Fukurodani back-to-back.

To everyone’s amazement, Kyoutani’s boyfriend –Seijo’s hell captain– had a _civilized conversation_ with Fukurodani’s captain after the game (the guy was also the most beautiful man Kyoutani had ever seen, if you were into the whole cheekbones-sharp-enough-to-cut, carved-from-marble, biblical-angel look), or he figured the conversation had been civil, because there hadn’t been any raised voices or sneering. Fukurodani’s captain was serene as ever and Yahaba had come back looking thoughtful instead of smug. He didn’t know if that was a good thing, but he’d burn that bridge when he got to it.

* * *

Yahaba wasn’t the only one who zeroed in on a particular crow or two to menace. The time was now and everyone, even the first years, were affected by the tension between the kingdom and crows.

Kindaichi had been glowering at Grumpy Setter all day, but now his looks had ratchet up into the stare-of-intensity zone, one set off from the Glowy Eyes. Of course, Grumpy was clearly oblivious. The guy made _Kyoutani_ look socially self-aware, and that was pretty fucking sad. 

Things flipped and it was Kunimi’s turn to be wary of Kindaichi– or maybe _for_ him, who could say what the cryptid was thinking. Either way, Kindaichi kept a watch on his turnip, but still sent the occasional icy look of disdain at Karasuno’s loudmouth firstie. The kid returned the look with fiery defiance; which was brave of him, but supremely stupid if you didn’t want to get knifed in a dark hallway. 

The Saitos had converged to form Voltron: a conglomeration of cutting stares and sharp whispers. Their building attack, woven together from nasty gossip, was indistinct in sound and indiscriminate in victimization.

Kyoutani was engaged in a sneering competition with Baldy.

Watari seemed deceptively chill, but Kyoutani’s papa didn’t raise no fool. Not even Watari was immune to the frustration and humiliation of last year. 

None of them could forget the sight of that loss. 

“Those fucking crows had better make it through the prelims so I can grind them into the concrete they sprouted from,” Kyoutani told Yahaba fiercely, but the announcement didn’t get the reaction he was going for.

“So immature,” Yahaba replied, punctuating his derision with a click of his tongue. “I don’t think you fully appreciate this opportunity Kyoutani-kun. You should take it more seriously.”

Kyoutani got stuck starting at Yahaba in some sort of stupor. Oh, god, please no. If the polite version of Yahaba was making a comeback it could’ve picked a better time.

"Well I’ll sure as shit be taking it seriously," Kyoutani retorted. "When I slam the ball down Glasses' throat."

“This is a _practice game_ . _Not_ a _death match_ ,” Yahaba said, deliberately slow and judgey and shit. As if Kyoutani was an idiot and the extra emphasis would magically make him understand. Which, first of all– rude. Second of all– _fucking rude_ , cause Kyoutani did understand. 

He understood that Yahaba was a fucking hypocrite.

“You tryna tell me you _don’t_ want to beat these fuckers? Cause it was totally all you saying we’d pay Karasuno back.” 

Yahaba sighed, like somehow Kyoutani was being the unreasonable dickhead here. “I’m just saying: holding onto the past can only hold us back. We should be more focused on honing our skills for the future. We learn little from victory and much from defeat.”

Was that supposed to be a proverb of something? When did Yahaba –even old Superficial & Shallow Yahaba– go around handing out proverbs or shitty platitudes? Never, that’s when.

“Don’t give me that look,” Yahaba scolded, he was evening using his bossy captain tone. “I know you hate losing with every fiber of your being, but the wise man learns more from his enemies than a fool does from his friends, and we should take advantage of this opportunity to do so."

Yeah, that was definitely a proverb. Also, what the fuck? 

The blood in Kyoutani’s veins had turned to ice water, and he took an instinctive step back, because he had no idea what the fuck he was dealing with here and it was terrifying. 

Maybe this was the actual demon parasite managing to take possession for once instead of Yahaba channeling the cursed energy for his own use. Whatever it was, it had Kyoutani riding the Nope Train to FuckThatVille. He'd rather take the worst parts of the Octopus Cling and Drama Queen settings all at once than this nightmare fuel. 

“Who are you, and what have you done with our captain?”

“Haha, very funny,” Yahaba replied just as flatly.

“So, what then?! You telling me you aren’t gonna bully them?”

“Oh, no. I fully plan to antagonize them at every possible opportunity,” Yahaba gave that troublemaker’s grin, and for the first time ever, seeing that smile actually made Kyoutani relax. Oh thank god. The normally abnormal Yahaba was back. “I just won’t be pulling out all the stops. I want to save my best for last, you know? I can’t have them acclimating to me.” 

“I did mean it about the matches though,” Yahaba added, more serious this time. “It’s not about winning, it’s about learning what makes them tick– analyze every detail, figure out what works and doesn’t work. Then we stratagize, weaponize, and hone it to a sharp edge. That way, when we meant them for our _real_ match,” Yahaba’s eyes lit up, grin overtaking his face. “We’ll decimate them and they'll go home crying."

Fuck, there he was, Kyoutani’s significant annoyance, asshole captain extraordinaire. All soft and lovely on the outside, full of contempt and evil little thoughts on the inside. Just the way Kyoutani liked him.

“Speaking of which, I sense an opening,” Yahaba said brightly, and the sappy shmoop took Kyoutani’s hand and kissed his knuckles. Kyoutani could practically see shojo roses and bishie sparkles in the background. 

Why was he so into this? He should absolutely not be into this. 

Yahaba had the balls to _fucking wink at him_ , then he was headed off to spring his trap on Shorty. 

Kyoutani had to wait until his brain regained basic functioning before he could follow. In case Yahaba was being a dirty liar again. And even if Yahaba had been telling the truth, that didn’t rule out the possibility of Yahaba losing his cool and flipping a few tables. And definitely not because he wanted to watch Yahaba throw down with Karasuno. Nope. Not at all.

Shorty was already getting all bouncy and shit when Kyoutani made his way over. Probably meant Yahaba had already started in on throwing shade.

“Don’t worry, I can ask Kyoutani-kun to go easy on you if you want Chibi-chan.”

Well that was new. Usually Yahaba didn't use Kyoutani as a threat. Kyoutani's general Kyoutani-ness usually did the trick, but this was Karasuno and who the fuck knew with these fuckers. 

“Whaaaa,” Hinata shriek-shouted. “No way! I’ll block all of his spikes! Just you wait!”

Grumpy Setter surprised all by interrupting. Kyoutani had thought Grumpy was too busy talking Very Seriously with Ennoshita to be paying attention. Turned out no.

“You can’t block him if you’re in the back row dumbass.” 

“I know that! It was a figure of speech!” Kageyama’s brows drew together, making him look constipated. Hinata made a weird _pwahhh_ exhale sound. “That means: a phrase applied to something to imply similarity, Baka-yama.”

“I don’t want to hear that from someone who barely passed their lit exam!” _Shots fired._ “Or from someone who’s blocking is for shit.”

“Shut up! I’d like to see you try to block Kyouken by yourself!”

“I bet I’ll stop more of his spikes then you stupid.”

“You’re on!” 

“The baseless confidence is cute,” Yahaba said– louder this time, a little sharper. Because god forbid someone tried to come in and steal the spotlight. “But now I’m concerned about future prospects. Maybe if you keep failing they won’t let you graduate and you can play high school volleyball forever, so there’s that at least.” 

Hinata started to get all _bwaaah_ about it, which made Yahaba smirky and shit. Kageyama had a seriously nasty glare going, but got distracted by Glasses snickering, and the two of them started their own argument.

Which, honestly, what the fuck? Maybe Grumpy was only interested in tossing insults at his own teammates. Sounded on brand for Karasuno, they were all warped, but _still_.

Kyoutani was a little worried how Yahaba would take that, but Hinata was Yahaba’s target of choice. Shorty was still making offended sounds, like a balloon being repeatedly inflated and deflated, and Yahaba seemed pleased so Kyoutani didn’t think he needed in intervene. Not yet at least.

“Okay, I have to ask though: is there anything going on in your brain? I mean, is all hollow and echoey? Or is it just volleyballs bouncing around 24/7?” Yahaba had gotten into a flow now, the brutality rising and the insults flying freely. “You’d have to be pretty dumb to think a short player could be good at playing middle blocker. I mean, I’ve seen short outside hitters, but a middle blocker? Could be you’re just not cut out to play middle blocker Chibi-chan.” 

“That’s true.” 

Hinata’s voice was quiet and weirdly serious when he replied. Gone was the exuberant exclamations, but there was an intensity to it that had the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end.

“It’s true." Hinata said it more firmly that time. "You need height as a middle blocker. You need height to play volleyball. It doesn’t matter how high I can jump. I can’t catch up.”

Hinata looked up and meet Yahaba’s gaze squarely, and now Kyoutani could see the way those big dumb eyes had turned to the big dumb glowy eyes. Well shit.

“But you know what? I don’t care if I’m not cut out for it. I’ll learn to fight with the strength that I have. I’ll do whatever it takes to be the person who stands on the court the longest!” 

Yahaba looked utterly stymied by the whole thing, and Kyoutani honestly couldn’t blame him. He wouldn’t know what to do if faced with the human incarnation of The Japanese Spirit either. 

The smart thing would’ve been to get the hell out of there while he still had a chance, but no. Yahaba had too much pride for that. 

Instead he slowly clapped for Hinata. A literal clap back, what an asshole. 

“Bravo, very moving,” Yahaba said, all patronizing. “Unfortunately, pretty words can't change reality. Perhaps you should consider a career in motivational speaking instead. You’re certainly more cut out for that than trying to play the role of a mediocre middle blocker.”

“Yeah, I’ve got a long way to go,” Hinata agreed, still being all freaky and intense– and was it just Kyoutani, or had the Shorty developed a Level Up Aura? “But I believe in my teammates, so bring it on! We'll beat you and make it to nationals. We'll win every game and be the team who stands on the court the longest. I’ll get to keep playing the most and then I’m gonna beat Kageyama," and then at full volume, "You hear that Kageyama! I'm totally gonna beat you!" 

That got an instant response, like it was a fucking reflex. “Like I’d lose to you, Hinata-boke!" – _and they’re back to yelling again, fantastic–_ “And middle blockers switch with the libero, so I definitely get to be on the court longer than you.”

“I totally stay longer when you get switched out cause you turn into a Tired-yama.”

“Says the idiot who got a fever from over extending his endurance!” 

“I totally coulda kept going! I still had the stamina! But I’m not an idiot like _you_.”

“Who’re you calling an idiot dumbass?!”

“You’re the one who straight up denied having a nose bleed while it was dripping down your stupid face!” 

Kageyama had a mirage of doom clinging to him as he advanced on Hinata. Shorty was either too stupid to notice, or had immunity by overexpose, but he didn’t run. He just kept throwing insults as Kageyama closed in on him, growling, “Why you little....” 

And now they were… fighting…? Each other?

Yeah, that was definitely what was happening. Kageyama kept trying to grab Shorty by his very vibrant head, but Hinata was dodging every move like a pro, laughing about how Kageyama was getting slow, and Kageyama got grumpier and growly-er.

Yahaba just stood there. Kyoutani a few steps back from him, but together they watched the two crows with a horrified sort of fascination. It was like not being able to look away from a car crash. 

“You are all godless heathens and I refuse to associate with you.” Yahaba said completely atonal. 

“Loser’s last attempt to look cool?” 

The disembodied taunt had Kyoutani doing a jump-scare, and he turned to glower at, who else, but everyone's favorite cryptid. 

“Stop with the fucking teleportation shit!”

Kunimi paid him zero attention in favor of critically assessing their captain, who in turn watched as Ennoshita came up and put a calm hand on the bickering crow’s shoulders. 

The pair froze in place, like their captain’s touch had petrified them (How had everyone around him developed supernatural powers? And why didn’t Kyoutani get any?). Ennoshita smoothly led the pair off, which was the queue for the rest of Aoba Johsai to stop eavesdropping at a safe distance and drift over now that Yahaba was done shit-stirring– like always. Buncha dickheads. 

“We warned you about Hinata,” Kunimi said. “He’s too stupid to be insulted properly.”

“Liar, I didn’t say that,” Kindaichi accused. “I said he’s a monster who feeds off criticism.”

Kunimi shrugged, “Same difference.”

“I still didn’t expect him to completely stump Yahaba like that,” Watari admitted, shaking his head in wonder. “I mean, I know logic doesn’t apply to Karasuno, but man.” 

“Oh how the turntables have turned,” drolled a smug Tetsu. 

Kyoutani hated to admit it, but Tetsu had a point. Who would’ve guessed a hyperactive lil’ citrus fruit doing a pitch perfect rendition of a shounen hero monologue could stop Yahaba in his tracks? But Tetsu was being an annoying fucknut about it. Kyoutani hoped that Yahaba would snap into Setter Mode On and subject Tetsu to one of his long winded captain lectures. 

But there was nothing. No benevolent dictator rising to the occasion. No dramatic nonsense. Yahaba didn’t clap back. It was like he hadn’t even heard them actually, and Kyoutani wasn’t the only one to notice their captain’s silence either. 

Tora was the one to break the lingering weirdness by giving a long, low whistle. “Yikes, I think the shrimp broke Yahaba-senpai.”

“Alas, poor Yahaba, I knew him well,”Kunimi intoned.

Kindaichi gave his friend a bemused smile. “Again with the Shakespeare. Is this a developing theme?”

“It’s a motif actually.”

“Um, guys?” Tomio cut in timidly. “The game’s about to start again. And the captain is still…” He gestured towards Yahaba. “Out of order?”

“I can just set instead,” offered Tetsu, stretching his fingers out in front of him.

“Not today,” Watari said at the same time as Kyoutani said, “Not fuck’n likely.”

“We’ll definitely put you in against Karasuno, just not for this first match,” Watari tried to sooth, but Tetsu still got all sulky-droopy about it. He turned to Kyoutani, “Think you can get Yahaba back into working order for us Vice Captain?”

Kyoutani crossed his arms and just glared. Watari’s sweet-talking had lost all effect on him. He would’ve snapped Yahaba back into the real world anyways. But now that’d he been asked? Well, he wasn’t about to make this easy after the libero’s numerous betrayals. 

Watari definitely wasn’t buying his tough and silent act, but instead of calling him out, he smiled and offered Kyoutani another choice. “I mean, I guess we’ll just have to change up our strategy this game and Tetsu can set.”

Motherfucker called his bluff. Kyoutani groaned and trudged over to stand in front of his boyfriend. Kyoutani took a moment to assess the damage, noted a few details, then nodded to himself.

He flicked Yahaba on the nose. Hard.

“Oi, significant annoyance– get your head in the game.”

Yahaba started, “I… ” and stopped, tried again, “I think I may have miscalculated.” He frowned a little as he touched his face. He still sounded out of it when he asked, “Did you just flick me on the nose?”

Kyoutani surprised them both with a sharp bark of laughter. It jolted Yahaba out of his shock paralysis, so he counted it a win. 

“No shit, you fucked up Captain Creampuff,” Kyoutani said with zero sympathy. “Nice to know you aren’t an all powerful demon king.”

“Obviously, I’m not,” Yahaba huffed and rolled his eyes. “Pretty sure that’s Oikawa.” 

Yeah, Kyoutani agreed with that one. 

“And I would never sell my soul for something as paltry as eternal youth and beauty,” Yahaba added, regaining a smidgen of his haughty disdain. “I have much higher standards.”

That one, Kyoutani couldn’t get behind. But it wasn’t any fun trying to argue with someone who’s reasoning was beyond the comprehension of any moderately sane person. Kyoutani was more interested in volleyball. 

“You done yappin’, or do you have more weird crap to do first?”

Yahaba threw an arm over Kyoutani’s shoulder and leaned into his side. Asshole was grinning again as he retorted cheerfully, “Excuse you, I always have more weird crap to do. Just because I’m not actively doing it doesn’t mean I’ve run out.”

Nothing was ever simple with this fucker.

“Are you _actively_ done being an _active_ shithead for now?” Kyoutani said in hopes that humoring his ridiculous setter might get him out of this quicker.

“Hmm, not sure,” Yahaba tapped one finger against his mouth in mock thoughtfulness. “Lemme think about it for a bit. I’ll get back to you.”

Kyoutani shrugged Yahaba’s arm off. “While you’re busy thinking, I’mma kick some crow ass with Tetsu,” and he started heading over to where the team was forming in the starting lineup.

Yahaba caught up to him real fast with his long-ass legs. 

“I have decided I am done with my active bullshit.” Yahaba said solemnly. 

Pffft, the idiot was so predictable. 

* * *

Kyoutani really hated losing. 

No matter what crappy cliches Yahaba tried to serve up about _your greatest rivals can be your greatest teachers_ blah, blah, blah bullshit, it didn't change a thing. Kyoutani still really, really, _really_ hated losing. Worst of all, losing to Karasuno.

"I blame you," Kyoutani growled in complaint after they’d finished their penalty lap of diving-receives and were taking a breather off to the side. “You just _had_ to taunt Shorty. God forbid you keep it to yourself for once.”

“I said I wasn’t going to go full out,” Yahaba shot back testily. The rest of the team had already voiced complaints and Yahaba had listened like a proper captain. But now that Kyoutani had him alone he’d dropped it. “Apparently half-assing Au Hominem doesn’t work on crows.”

He had no idea what odd-human-ay was, but whatever. He didn’t need to, he could still rip Yahaba a new one without that knowledge. Big words did not make for better volleyball, which is why Yahaba should’ve left Hinata alone, the fucking idiot. Now who looked like the dumbass? Not Shrimpy.

“Really?” Kyoutani laid-on the heavy sarcasm. “I couldn’t tell. I thought you were _trying_ to hype em up till they're going on some bullshit shounen rant. Cause that’s sure as shit what it looked like.”

“Piss off,” Yahaba complained. “It’s my job to be the dramatic one. You’re the cute ‘n crabby tsun.” 

“That’s funny, I remember that one time you were being a dick about how I hit volleyballs dramatically and got mad when I did the volleyball bad.”

“You’re just bitter that Hinata-kun actually managed to stuff one of your killer cross shots.”

“You’re just bitter that he stuffed it by reading your form. Your stamina’s for shit.”

“At least I have the game sense to know that he had read me and you should’ve switched it up instead of trying to bash it through.”

“You could’ve just dipped out of bulling Shorty when you had the chance, but no. Not Yahaba, not the reigning champion of provocation. He didn’t have the game sense to back down when he should’ve.”

Yahaba didn’t even have a half-baked comeback. He just drew his knees up to his chest and sulked in silence.

Okay, it was possible the combination of losing and exhaustion was making Kyoutani tired-angry. And blunt. And kinda mean. 

Still, he had one last parting snipe and then he’d let it go. “You shoulda known you were screwed the moment Shorty got the glowy eyes.”

Yahaba squinted at him. “The… glowy eyes?”

“Yes, the fucking glowy eyes! Sharingan activated. Detective mode on. All thrusters are go. Whatever the fuck you wanna call it.” Yahaba was looking at him like he’d just declared his undying love for Oikawa. 

“Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about dickhead!" Kyoutani snapped.

“I seriously don’t.”

Ugh, this guy was the worst. “You’re the worst.” 

Yahaba slumped in defeat. “I used to think I was. Now I’m not so sure.” Kyoutani watched as Yahaba stared at his own hands. His face slowly morphed to horror, as if his hands were newly discovered traitors

“What if I’m losing my touch?" Yahaba said aghast to his hands. Yahaba abruptly sat up straight and startled the shit outta Kyoutani. "Quick,” he demanded. “Find me someone to antagonize. I have to– no, scratch that, _I need_ to know."

Kyoutani was seriously not in the mood to deal if Yahaba was gonna be peak dramatic. Kyoutani was exhausted and sweaty and gross, and it was just– no. 

“Calm the fuck down Captain Creampuff. It's not that big a deal. You were the one who said you were half-assing it anyways."

"Kyoutani –light of my life, ace of my heart, my special guy– you do not understand. This is an integral part of my personality." Oh fantastic, now Yahaba was on a roll, and no amount of exasperation on Kyoutani’s part was going to stop it. 

"After years of pretending to be polite, I have embraced my destiny as a contrary harbinger of chaos, and the most aggressively argumentative person you will ever have the misfortune to meet.” Yahaba looked up at him with soft honey eyes, all pleading. “If my snark is broken, then who am I?”

That was a lot of fucking words, all garbled at him real fuck’n quick, and what he did catch was disjointed at best. Not to mention he was looking at Kyoutani with those big sad eyes and annoying pouty mouth, which really didn’t help boost up his brain's processing power. 

At least the last sentence was semi intelligible, so that’s what he ended up responding to. 

He shuffled over to sit next to Yahaba and took one hand in his. “Your snark is fine, loser,” he said a little gruffly, leaning a little into his idiot setter’s side. “You fixate on the weirdest shit, you know that right?”

He only got a grumbly, unimpressed hurumphing out of Yahaba, so he tried another angle.

“I’m pretty sure Shorty is immune. I mean, did you see the way he was with Kageyama? And that asshole glasses guy? I’d be immune if I had to put up with those fuckers on the daily. Shit, I’m basically immune to your bullshit and so’s half the team.”

Yahaba whined pitifully, mushing his face so it was half shoved into the crook of Kyoutani’s neck and half rested on his shoulder. Which had to be pretty fucking gross, but Yahaba was a pretty gross guy, so. Not too surprising during octopus cling times. 

Kyoutani let his own head rest on top of Yahaba’s. But only real quick, because Yahaba’s hair was now damp, and kinda tangled, and way sweaty. Ick. 

“Whaddya wanna work on for free practice?”

“Everything?” Kyoutani jabbed him with his foot. “Ow! What, it’s true!”

“I am too tired to play at talking in circles with you.”

“You’re no fun,” Yahaba complained, and this time he dodged Kyoutani’s jabbing foot, but still gave him a real answer. “You need to work on receiving jump-floaters. And overhand receives. And receiving period.”

“Bite me, asshole,” Kyoutani complained. “I’m no Nekoma, but I’m at least better than their noodle blocker.”

Yahaba stared at him for close to thirty seconds before saying “Noodles, oh my god!” and had a fit of donkey laughing so hard he fell over onto his side “Like one of those flailing inflatable guys at gas stations.”

“Fuck, you’re right,” Kyoutani said. “‘Specially when he gets yelled at for his bonzi blocks. He gets all–” Kyoutani wiggled his arms in imitation. Yahaba was red in the face from laughter at that point. 

“Stop,” Yahaba gasped out. “‘M gonna die.” 

Kyoutani didn’t want Yahaba to die, at least not at that moment, so he showed mercy.

“You know,” Yahaba said once he was under control again. “Absolutely no one would believe me if I told them you’d just done a solid impression of a wacky flailing inflatable man.”

“My sister would,” Kyoutani corrected. 

Yahaba’s smile got soft around the edges –which gave Kyoutani a moment of arrhythmic heart failure– and nodded. “True.” 

With that, Yahaba hoisted himself to his feet with a groan. “Alright, you go find Kunimi or someone with a jump floater to practice with. I need to work out some new signals with Tora, and develop some better blocking strategies for the team. Oh, I should make sure Watari practices block-follows too, and now that I think about it, Tomio would probably benefit from–” 

Yahaba kept rattling off his endless to-do list, and Kyoutani knew from frequent experience it was better to jump ship than suffer through the in-depth, play-by-play strategy for what Yahaba had planned for the next decade. 

“IGottaGoFindACryptidBye,” he blurted out and bailed.

Not that he had much of a chance at actually tracking down Kunimi if Kunimi didn’t want to be found. Who else in this place had a good floater? And wasn’t on Karasuno. Cause he was still low-key raging and punching someone after asking for their help seemed… kinda rude? And as much shit as Kyoutani gave Yahaba about his compulsive need to throw down, Kyoutani’s own impulse control wasn’t something to brag about. 

Whatever, he could just find one of his teammates to practice overhand receives with for now. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know the sound they use in the anime when Hinata gets glowy eyes? It sounds reaaaaal similar to the one for Sauske’s sharingan imo...  
> Fun Fact #2:  
> My outline for this chap consisted of only this~  
> Hinata: yah, we’ve got a long ways to go but I’m totally gonna win against Bakayama so I have to get better anyways and keep fighting all the time and wow, now I’m super fired up and glowy-eyed and the next step to beating him is by beating YOU so haha, look what you’ve done now and– SHUDDUP STUPID KAGEYAMA!  
> And now they’re fighting… each other?? And ignoring Yahaba???


End file.
